Great. Even better. Parkour was way more Vann’s thing than his. Ahead awaited twenty, maybe thirty narrow pillars of doom in a non-forward path to relative safety. On the other side, a jagged arched doorway, this one leading into another tunnel.
Here goes nothing. Bennett hopped to the first.
As if it hovered above the ground in timid defiance of gravity, the pillar descended in a lethargic plunge under his added weight. Fuck, Bennett quickly assessed the layout and leapt to the next.
He missed the landing and slid off, gripping the sinking rock with his fingertips.
Hauling ass to get to his feet, he propelled to the next before the pillar sank any further.
Moving fast, not pausing for more than a second, he leaped from stone to stone, each pillar jutting askew from the force of his leap.
The last jump was a flipping monster; he dove across and grasped the ledge with his fingertips, dangling one-handed like a thrill-seeking climber. He may not mind diving headfirst into the fight, but that’s when he was guaranteed the relief of landing a few punches. This… danger for the sake of the adrenaline rush was less gratifying.
Swinging up, he grabbed hold with his other hand and pulled himself to the ledge and into the hall. May as well add a gigantic boulder rushing down the tunnel, or maybe some guillotines dropping from the ceiling to slice through him. Seriously, this place was like something out of Indiana Jones. A fingerprint reader or blood test would have been a lot simpler.
At the end of the hall, a solid obsidian boulder blocked the doorway. Bracing himself on one side, he pushed. Nothing. Sucking in a lungful of air, he tried again. Took every scrap of muscle from head to toe. His jaw gritted tight as if every part of him was needed. Grinding, stone against stone, it shifted. Heaving with the last bit of strength he had, he shoved it out of the way.
Let’s see a vampire try that. Or, hell, even an ordinary demon hunter. Yeah, fate had been groominghimfor precisely this mission. Dusting off his hands, he admired his handiwork while suppressing the urge to drop to his ass and take a break.
Wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow, Bennett looked ahead to the next challenge. Might have to design something like this in his warehouse, if Calloway’s minions hadn’t trashed the place. Fuck; he’d have to clear out of the Seattle area, Adair too, in case some of Calloway’s followers slipped through both his mother’s and his own team’s attacks today. Dammit, dead or alive, preferably dead, Calloway was going to haunt him long after today.
At the end of the next series of bends, a fork. Okay. Great. Pulling a knife from his boot, he etched an arrow to the left to guide the team.
After a fucking hour of twists and turns, he was utterly convinced that this was the wrong path. Dammit. He ran back the way he’d come, not caring that his lungs were burning from a long night and day of maximum exertion. When this was over, he was crashing at his place in BC. Hopefully Adair would want to join him, at least for a vacation, and they could relax in the hot tub for a month.
Finding his way back to the first fork, he stopped. Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly, sensing every nuance on the air. Dumbass; he’d been thinking like a hunter again. To the right, he caught the subtle scent of blood. Centuries old, not human, not vampire, but unmistakable.
Rubbing out the first mark, he drew a new arrow to the right.
A few more forks, a few more arrows etched into the rock, and he reached another door.
No scent to pick up. Shoving with all the force he could muster, he tried to open it demon-hunter style, but no luck.
He stepped back and scanned the doorway, the surrounding walls. Markings.
Fuck, this was Astrid’s area of expertise. He was no code-breaker.
The markings didn’t match any runes or ancient language he could recognize. He was about to turn back, accepting he had gone as far as he could, when he looked up and saw a sunshine carved into the ceiling.
He stepped back and matched the markings on the wall to the pattern on the ceiling. Pushing on the first symbol, the rock warm as a bath, it depressed and locked into place.
Nailed it. In sequence to match the sun, he finished the pattern.
Grinding over stone floor that screeched under its weight, the squealing gears from an ancient pulley system, the door edged open.
Bennett shielded his eyes as the light in the next cavern was so bright he couldn’t see.
Condensing in an instant, the light tightened. Fast as a lightning blast, a ball of pure, blinding, blazing sunlight burst through the doorway.
Raising his shield, he tried to protect himself from the explosion.
Like a rocket, the rush of luminous energy sent him flying back.
Crashing against the wall behind him, his skull cracked against the solid stone.
Head throbbing, he reached back and felt blood oozing from a head wound.
He struggled to stand, tried to move, to see… to doanything, but his eyelids fluttered closed, too heavy to stay open, and a wave of nausea wafted over his stomach. Turning, he wretched until his gut ached with emptiness.
